You, The White Christian American. You Are Needed.

Monday, July 11, 2016

Why are white Christians afraid to speak up for the oppressed? Why are we silent on #blacklivesmatter? Why, instead, do we shout #alllivesmatter? Why do we not mourn with the LGBQT community? Why do we fail to stand with our Muslim brothers and sisters instead of fear them and look at them with suspicious eyes?

Why are we failing Christ?

Jesus went out of his way to physically meet, hold, shake hands, heal, speak to, and sit with those that were nothing like him. He gave his personal time to children and women—two people groups that were viewed as unimportant in his day and age. He touched the lepers. He allowed the sinful women to touch and wash his dirty feet. He befriended the tax collectors—the criminals of society. When Christ was hanging on the cross, he spoke to the sinful man hanging next to him and promised that by the end of the day, they would be together in Paradise.

So why aren’t more white Christians being like him?

I once went to a church where it was frowned upon to be political or take a stand or march with the oppressed when they took the streets in protest. We shouldn’t cause waves, because waves cause headaches and stir up tension. Waves might give other people the wrong impression of the church as a whole.

What?

Why?

When did church become comfortable and silent? When did it stop serving the hurting? When did it stop mourning with those that mourn? When did is become a social club to better your own personal lives? And if it did all those things, why did it have to do them silently and in private so no one knew?

I don’t know…

So I quit.

Friends, I am proud of my social media platform. When I go back and scroll through my wall to double check that I am not ashamed of who I am, I see a woman that is desperately pleading for her Christian counterparts to stand in the darkness and be a light. I see a woman challenging her Christian counterparts to hit the streets and hold the hands of those that are hurting, march with them, shed tears with them. I see a woman that is shining a light on the disenfranchised that do not have as much privilege as we do to speak out and demand a fair chance to the life that we are able to forge for ourselves without as much effort.

I don’t see a trouble maker.

I don’t see a woman that’s stirring up tension.

And if that’s how you see me, if that’s how your church views other Christians like me, then you might not be living out the purpose God handed you the way he intended. It wasn’t about building numbers and raising money. It was never about feel-good teachings and exciting get-togethers. It wasn’t about comfortably loving others from a safe distance. If you see people like me and other Christians like me as trouble-makers and rebels, you might be missing out.

It’s possible.

It’s probable.

I’m not saying that I am perfect. I am a mess. I am emotional. I am passionate. But I am also scared. I don’t like leaving my comfortable home. I do not like struggling and suffering. I’m afraid to go places I haven’t been and I get nervous meeting groups of people I’ve never met before. This isn’t easy for me…

But…

There is a huge world of people outside churches that need me and my compassion and empathy. I can’t reach them all, but I won’t be silent and refuse to talk about them because it might cause waves. They need someone to use whatever privilege they have to speak up for them and shine a light on their plight.

So…

I’m not ashamed of what I am doing.

I don’t want to be a white Christian that is silent when people desperately need my voice.